Ride
by BalletGirl537
Summary: "Live fast, die young. Be wild, and have fun. My motto is still the same as ever. I believe in freedom. I believe in the open road. I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I'm at war with myself... I ride. I just ride. I'm crazy. But I am free."
1. My Only Real Happiness

**I was inspired by one of my favorite artists to write this songfic. **

**The storyline is given from dib07, in which currently Shadow was taken away and Sonic is kidnapped. I wrote this out to somewhat foresee how this whole fiasco could screw with Sonic's mind and make him just run away from everything. I highly suggest that you watch the music video this story is based on AFTER you read it to get the whole thing, that or you can take it on stand-alone. Enjoy!**

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_Baseline story from dib07's 'Crossroads' and 'Crossroads Finale'_

_Inspired by Lana Del Rey's 'Ride'_.

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I stood there, on the balcony, cherry cola in my hand. The sun beat down on my body like a thousand suns, warming me up until I sweat. The wind blew so hot on my face that I held my breath, and waited. I wished. That he was here. The man behind me sat quietly in his plastic chair, smelling the rusty smell that floated in the wind from his bottle. I welled up and started to tear.

"You have to face facts that they're gone now." He said to me. Voice as rusty as gold. I loved him for that. I backed up and sat on his lap. "Stay with us for a while."

I couldn't help but just sit there with him. Fiddling with his shirt and intoxicating myself with the smell of beer and the taste of cherry cola. I was home here. I was desensitized. Unnerved. Unwilling to follow the status quo.

I was in the winter of my life. And the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself, dancing and laughing and crying with them. My friends were gone, they told me. And I would be alone if I didn't listen to them.

Three years down the line of being on an endless road that lead to nowhere and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me… and my only real happy times.

I was a singer. Not a very popular one. I once had dreams of becoming an explorer, like my father. But upon an unfortunate series of events, I saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on. Over and over again. Sparkling and broken.

But I didn't really mind because I knew that… that it takes getting everything you've ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.

I rode with them. I ran with them. Running through the searing heat until my heart gave out and my legs caved in and they'd carry me. Feeling the wind rush through my quills, throwing my arms up to the heavens and hoping they'd throw something back down at me as I looked up. I saw the future as I saw the road in front of me: long, dry, and endless. I chose to continue down my own road. Couldn't care less about the green plants slowly creeping away to my right, or the black storm close behind me. I love not knowing what lies ahead, because I also love danger. And numbness. Spiritless.

I stood at a wall covered in graffiti and gang words that advertized death, orange soda in my hand. The night was cold and the stars were young. I waited at the wall, watching the people pass by going who-knows-where doing who-knows-what.

When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I'd been living when I was young, they asked me "Why?". But there's no use in talking to people who have a home. They have no idea what it's like to seek safety in other people. For home to be wherever you lie your head.

I was always an unusual 'hog. My mother told me I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing to the North and no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and wavering as the ocean I feared.

I jumped into his car without thinking. I just do things. We chatted and sat there listening to classic rock. He asked me to come with him a second time. Out onto the open road, to explore, to break all the rules and not care. If I said I didn't plan for it to end this way, I'd be lying.

Because I was born to be the other spirit. I belonged to no one. Who belonged to everyone. Who had nothing. Who wanted everything. With a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to a point that I couldn't even talk about it. And pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

I didn't care where I went or who I was with. They all just took me with them. As I threw my hands up into the air I thought about everything I left behind, and all the things I'd done. But then I remember that I'm riding. Moving forward and never looking back. Years and years ago with the friends I used to know, I was happy, but now I'm free. I have no worries because these people have no worries.

I don't care what the future is anymore.


	2. I Just Ride

I lived like a child. Sitting on a tire swing strung up to the heavens and hanging over a barren desert, not caring to climb up the rope or jump off the dusty tire. I just enjoyed the fun while it lasted, swinging all different kinds of ways and directions. Did I ever get tired? Did I ever call for help to get me out of this mess?

_I've been out on that open road._

Did I ever sit up at night, thinking of the times that me and him fought, when we kissed, when we talked. But I never let those thoughts get to me because they told me to forget him. And that's what I do. I move on. But still, I wonder what it'd be like to steal his heart and hold it close to mine, feeling his heartbeat. I had a burning desire for him.

_You can be my full time, daddy. White or Gold._

I'd also remember the times when me and the men would go to an old arcade. We'd steal the keys so that we could stay up all night. I always played pinball. The way the ball bounced around reminded me of myself. And then I'd remember the times I sang. The hate he delivered when he found out about my job. But to stand there, telling stories through song... But singing the blues got old.

And then I'd remember when me and the men showed up at that same arcade, smelling the smells of pizza and old plastic. I hit on girls twice my size. But girls will do anything to get their hands on a rebel. I remember pulling each and every one of them over and saying "You can be my full-time baby. Hot or cold".

And now, now I'm back in that terrible scar of my life. In the house that my friends live in. Still fighting to get him back safe and sound. They shout at me, asking where I've been and why I look 'so wasted'. I always tell them that I was running away. Just like I always did.

_Don't break me down. I've been traveling too long_

They can't hurt me. I've been going too long, seen too many things to ever be brought down by just words. I've been trying too hard to decide whether I should stay or go.

I remember being with them at a bar. And they pushed me onto the stage. I sang my song and then they drank. I danced under the velvet night sky, feeling the toxic vapors intoxicate me.

I hear the birds in the summer breeze. I run fast. I am alone at night. I've been trying not to get into trouble, but I'm at war with my mind.

_So I just ride_.

Oh, how I remember sitting on the back of their motorbikes. We rode through the endless deserts, standing out of the saddle and throwing our hands up, feeling the heated winds tear through our hair, looking up to the teal skies. I never felt so alive.

_I just ride_.

Dying young and playing hard. That's the way I was living when we rode through the arid sands of America. I had no regrets during that time. We dreamed all day and we talked until dark. That's the way the road dogs did it. I was a road dog. I loved my life so much then that I feared they would leave me. Out on the open road with no one to ride it with. But I disregarded that because…

_I just ride._

I remember running from where the government held me captive. It was night time and I was scared. My captives didn't chase me, but I still ran. I found a gas station in the middle of nowhere at night. As I stood there, grape soda in my hand, a gang of bikers showed up. Like an idiot, I jumped on the back of one of their bikes and rode with them. They didn't even ask why. I threw my soda behind me just as I threw away all worries, all fears, all of my friends and family.

_And I rode_.

That night they started a bonfire on a huge pile of wood. The men took out small pictures from their wallets of women the must've dated. And they threw them into the pile. When it was my turn I took out something dear to me. It was a little doll forged from straw. _Oh, Cream_. I always kept it because it reminded me of my friends. But I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy. I'm tired of running 'til I see stars in my eyes. I threw the doll and they ignited the fire. It felt amazing, like something had been purged from my body. Beer sprayed onto the fire and it touched the sky. Oh, how we danced through the night.

We lit firecrackers and threw sparklers at each other. The men rode their bikes through the fire. And we screamed. Spiritless. I looked up to the stars to keep myself sane.

_I just ride. I just ride…_


	3. I Am Free

I've decided to run. Because every night I used to pray that I'd find my people. And finally, I did. That's why I ran. I loved my friends and family, but these people, these men that rode until the endless end, these were my people.

On the open road.

We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore; except to make our lives into a work of art.

Live fast, die young. Be wild, and have fun.

I found them, and we rode. Out into the desert we went and we ran through the sand. We acted like wild animals. We roared at each other and they fired their guns into the sky.

I believe in the world Earth is to be. And I believe in the person I have become. And I believe in the freedom of the open road. And my motto is the same as ever.

I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I'm at war with myself…

I ride. I just ride.

I shot off a gun like I've never shot before. Screaming to the sky, yelling out all my frustration, purging myself of the stress and sadness of being a hero.

Who are you, when you're in touch with all your darkest fantasies? Have you created a life for yourself, where you can experience them?

I have.

I am fucking crazy.

But I am free.


	4. Author's Note

**BalletGirl537:**

**Hey readers! I've decided now that I'm going to make a sort of sequel to 'Ride', most likely in Shadows point of view or something like that. So stay tuned for that sequel! :D**


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